


Undone

by Zee



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Face Slapping, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee/pseuds/Zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I won’t be one of your conquests,” Illya said, his voice coming out a drunken slurred mumble. Napoleon looked up at him, his lips wet, and Illya was expecting another dazzling smile, expecting to be seduced but instead Napoleon just lifted an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Please, no one’s a conquest here,” he said. “I’m just giving you a helping hand. Assisting you in becoming a little less uptight.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

Illya was not entirely sure how they had gotten here. It seemed that just a minute ago he and Napoleon been sharing a drink in the hotel room, both of them giddy from the high of another successful mission; they’d been standing in front of the doors to the master bedroom, and Napoleon had given him a bright-eyed smile that softened the sharp edges inside him, that eased the tremors in his hands. 

Now Napoleon was sucking his cock, and Illya was having trouble connecting the two points. He was lying on the edge of the bed, his feet still touching the floor, and Napoleon was kneeling on the floor in front of him. Every touch of Napoleon’s tongue was sweet, too sweet, it was undoing him and Illya had to struggle to hold on to his composure. He laced his fingers in Napoleon’s hair and pushed his head to the side.

“I won’t be one of your conquests,” he said, his voice coming out a drunken slurred mumble. Napoleon looked up at him, his lips wet, and Illya was expecting another dazzling smile, expecting to be seduced but instead Napoleon just lifted an eyebrow.

“Please, no one’s a conquest here,” he said. “I’m just giving you a helping hand. Assisting you in becoming a little less uptight.”

Illya let his hand fall back and groaned when Napoleon went back to what he’d been doing. He licked a long stripe up Illya’s cock and Illya couldn’t let go of his hair, couldn’t stop himself from gripping a fistful and holding on. He felt like a conquest; he felt like this was undoing him, turning him into someone else entirely. It was not a feeling he was used to and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It was hard to just lie here and let Napoleon give this to him, no matter how good it felt--maybe because of how good it felt.

Napoleon began sucking him in earnest, wrapping his lips around the head of Illya’s cock and sliding down the length of him. Illya shuddered, each sensation leaving him more wrecked than the last. The wet heat of Napoleon’s mouth was unlike anything else he’d experienced and was nothing he could possibly have prepared for. It left him red-faced and gasping, staring up at the ceiling like that held any answers. Part of him was angry that Napoleon was getting to see him like this, so utterly vulnerable and lost at sea, but another hidden part of him was perhaps grateful for it.

Illya tensed at the sound of a door opening. “Cowboy, cowboy stop,” he hissed, and Napoleon let Illya’s cock slide from his mouth with a slick ‘pop’ sound. He didn’t move from where he was kneeling, just twisted around to look over his shoulder. 

It was Gaby. She paused in the doorway, placing one hand on her hip and arching an eyebrow above her ridiculous sunglasses. Illya opened his mouth to say something, anything to explain the situation, but words died in his throat. 

“You know what this needs,” Gaby said before Illya could manage to say anything. She strode across the room to the record player, deftly placing the needle down and snapping her hips as the first notes started playing. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Napoleon said, his voice a soft murmur against Illya’s hip. Illya wondered if he was dreaming. Surely the universe couldn’t actually allow this to happen; surely Gaby wasn’t starting to dance as Napoleon wrapped his fingers around his cock and tongued at the head. 

“Relax,” Gaby said as she came over to him, her hips swaying. Illya remembered the first time she had danced for him, how nervous and confused he’d been. She stared down at him now, her face unreadable behind her sunglasses, and Illya couldn’t help it: he reached for her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles as Napoleon elicited an involuntary moan from him. 

“Look at you,” Gaby said softly, and Illya flinched but there was no ridicule in her voice, no judgement. “You want him so much.”

Illya wanted to protest, wanted to say it was _her_ he wanted, and it was the truth--or some small part of the truth. He wanted them both but had never let himself think it before tonight, would never in a million years have tried to grasp for it.

A smile flickered briefly on Gaby’s lips, and then she gave his cheek a hard smack. Illya felt it like a jolt straight to his cock. His hips jutted forward and Napoleon gagged, pulling off. 

Before Illya could apologize, Napoleon was chuckling, looking up at him with a smirk on his face. “So you like that. Interesting.” 

Gaby slapped his other cheek, not lightly, and yes, god help him, Illya liked it. Napoleon went back to work and Illya turned his head, pressing his cheek into the sheets and letting out a pathetic broken noise. He was so close to the brink already, and Napoleon’s mouth and his tongue were pushing him closer. 

Illya waited for another slap but Gaby was dancing away, her hands lifted high above her head, her neck thrown back with her hair falling down her back. The sight made him smile. He didn’t know why, but it felt right for her to see him and Napoleon both like this. 

Napoleon did something inhuman with his throat and tongue and Illya felt his whole body pull taut, ready as a cocked pistol. He managed to choke out something resembling a warning and then he was coming, the climax hitting his body in waves that threatened to overwhelm him. He thought, strangely, of the face of his father’s watch, and of the smell of the burning plastic of a computer disk. 

Then it was over. Napoleon pulled off, and the air felt cool against the skin where his mouth had been. He crawled up onto the bed, collapsing next to Illya, and Illya felt the mattress dip as Gaby threw herself down on his other side.

“You look so guilty,” she said, bringing her hand up to soothe the spot where she’d hit him. “Why?”

Illya swallowed. “Because--” he remembered hearing Napoleon fuck Victoria over the microphone he’d attached to him; he remembered the hot stab of jealousy that had hit him as he listened to her moans, a jealousy that he never had a right to. He felt guilt and shame for more reasons than he could possibly express to Gaby right now, but chief on his mind was his own horrible possessiveness. He wanted so badly for both of them to be _his._

“Because you like to find problems where there aren’t any,” came Napoleon’s voice on his other side. His hand was on Illya’s neck, his thumb brushing the hollow where his collarbones met. “This is allowed, you know. You’re not breaking any rules.”

Illya turned to look at him. Maybe Napoleon was right. If this was allowed, then he was going to do everything he could to leave his shame behind. 

The smile Napoleon gave him now was more soft, less dazzling, and Illya closed his eyes when Napoleon leaned in to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> soooo I just barely got back from seeing the movie and I'm in love with these three. come talk to me about them on tumblr, I'm zeegoesthere.


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